


Raise Your Glass

by Churbooseanon



Series: More Than Friends [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Real World, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-27 00:56:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1709063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Churbooseanon/pseuds/Churbooseanon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started with the same bar they went to every Friday night. </p><p>Changed course completely when the standard lines of comfort were met with the drunken press of lips. </p><p>Culminated in the furious press of lips and exploration of hands and quiet pleas as they moved together on his bed.</p><p>And now North deals with the fallout of a mistake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Raise Your Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Based on an interesting exchange discovered in Watch Dogs, and my knee jerk reaction that I had to see York and North in that position of an awkward, morning after phone call.

It started with the same bar they went to every Friday night. 

Moved on to the same drinks they always ordered.

Fermented in the same period of York pining away over the woman they both knew he would never win.

Changed course completely when the standard lines of comfort were met with the drunken press of lips. 

Escalated by drunken fumbling from them both as York pressed him against the door to North's apartment. 

Culminated in the furious press of lips and exploration of hands and quiet pleas as they moved together on his bed. 

And now here he was, stretched out on his bed, one arm thrown over his eyes, listening to the silly James Bond theme music ring-tone that York had snuck onto his cellphone months back and set up as his own. It was at least the fifth time it had gone off this morning and the man who went by the teasing nickname of North—he didn't even remember how it had come about at this point, that memory lost with several others due to nights of drunken stupor shared with York—groaned to hear it. He knew just why his best friend was calling, just how the conversation was going to go. 

No, if he was lucky the call would surprise him with York announcing that he could not remember a single thing from the night before, but thanks for making sure he had gotten home safely. All he could do was hope and pray that York would have forgotten what would have lead up to North needing to call a cab for him at five in the morning. 

The only problem with that was that North was pretty sure it wasn't possible. If it was really something that innocent then York wouldn't be trying so hard to get through to him. What was more, he was pretty certain he had to have been more wasted than York to have allowed what had happened. 

The phone went silent, and North continued to hide under his arm. Just how was he supposed to deal with this? Call York and apologize for the awkward and yet wonderful sex they'd fallen into the night before? Claim that he didn't remember a thing and hope York just took that and ran with it?

How did you tell the man you were in love with and just so happened to be your best friend that you were really sorry you had been drunk enough to sleep with them? 

For the sixth time the damn music burst from his phone and North sighed. This wasn't good. York had apparently given up all pretense of leaving messages at this point. Just one call after another. If he didn't answer soon he was certain York would show up at his door and start pounding on it, out of concern if nothing else. And if North tried to ignore even that he had no doubt that his friend would enter anyway. There was nothing that kept a concerned professional locksmith from looking in on a friend. 

With a sigh York reached for the phone with the hand that wasn't currently occupied in the vital process of keeping his face covered, and hit the accept button before putting it to his ear.

“Morning,” North greeted as cheerfully as he could manage, trying to find the quality of tone that York would expect from him. 

“Don't you fucking 'morning' me. You've been screening my calls!” York accused him out of hand, though there was something in his tone that said he hadn't expected a response. 

“Couldn't find my phone,” he lied easily. The scoff on the other end of the line told him just how much York thought of that. 

“I'm really not in the mood for this, North. We need to talk.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, knowing that tone meant business. Well, there went any hopes of York not remembering. 

“What happened last night...”

“Look,” North cut him off, finally uncovering his eyes and staring balefully up at the ceiling, “it's okay. We were both drunk. You kissed me, and we went back to my place, and one thing lead to another. It just is what it is and...”

“Look, North, I'm not gay.”

He knew that. He was painfully aware of that. Last night had been an anomaly. Granted, one that left his legs sore even now and practically made him hard just at the memory. 

“I understand,” North came back almost immediately. He did. He cursed it, but he understood. Why were all the good ones aimlessly pining away for women who didn't even notice them? Okay, so that completely wasn't fair to Carolina, but dammit York was wasted on her. At least, as far as North was concerned, York was wasted on her.

“Shit,” York cursed quietly into the phone in that way he did when he wasn't entirely sure what to do with himself, or where to take a conversation. “I mean... Am I gay?”

North froze, honest to god froze. It was a question he'd never expected to fall from York's lips. Then again, he'd never imagined the possibility of the night before. Well, in general he'd imagined it plenty of times, but he'd never expected it to happen. 

“No,” he said despite how much he wanted to say yes. “People experiment. Usually they leave that for college, but hey, to each their own. At worst your pursuit of Carolina says you're bisexual.”

Their silence hovered on companionable for half a moment. Then it was just plain awkward, and North could sense York on the edge of a question. 

“Are you?”

“We've known each other for four years and you're only just asking that question?”

He can hear the way the question flustered York in the way his breathing seemed stressed for a moment. 

“I've never seen you with any guys...”

Because there hadn't been any that could match up to York. He'd tried, a few times, but he'd learned quickly that it wasn't fair to them when he kept comparing them to York. Better to give himself more time to maybe figure out York wasn't worth it before he tried for something more serious.

“You haven't seen me with any women either,” North pointed out. “But I think we're getting off topic here. Last night won't happen again.”

Another long pause, this one strangely weightier than the last.

“And if I wanted it to?”

His throat tightened, his hands started to shake, and North had to bite his lip to keep from pleading for it. Three deep breaths, count to twenty. Pray York didn't consider the pause too long and yet be certain that he did. 

“I'm not a science fair project, York. You don't just get to experiment with me and then bury me in some back closet to be forgotten. That's not how our friendship works.”

“Wow, you really think so little of me, North?”

No. And that was the problem. 

“No, but I do have a pretty good spectator seat on your past relationships. No offense meant, but you've got some shit luck.”

“Yeah, I suppose I do. But North...”

“Yeah, York?” 

“Answer your door.”

The line went dead even as there was a soft rapping on his apartment door. North threw himself from his bed as quickly as his sore legs would allow, and flung himself through the apartment to reach the door. When he opened it he found York there, his fist poised for another knock and one of his arms behind his back. 

“You've been out here the whole time?” he asked, smiling softly at his best friend. “You're an idiot.”

“Maybe,” York agreed with a weak little chuckle. “But... I didn't know if you'd want to look at me after last night. So... I figured I'd test the waters before jumping in.”

“That doesn't mean I'm changing my mind about...”

North trailed off as York's other hand came from behind his back. It extended and there was literally nothing North could do but stare in shock at the bouquet of roses and plastic bag filled with takeout boxes that hung from his wrist. 

“Normally I start with the flowers, move on to dinner and maybe a movie, and then try to put the moves on someone. So I guess this is a bit out of order, but... I thought maybe we could try anyway.”

“York, I...”

“I figure that after last night I owe you at least three dates,” York continued, his cheeks clearly burning with a blush, “so this is just the start. But I was hoping we could try more past that. And I'll abide by whatever ground rules you decide so please just give me a cha...”

North didn't even give him a chance to finish his sentence. He just grabbed York by his collar and dragged him into a kiss.


End file.
